


Get Off of My Cloud

by ace_is_ace



Series: Writing workouts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Helpful!Cas, Injured Dean, M/M, Random - Freeform, brokenleg!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_is_ace/pseuds/ace_is_ace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A quick exercise in writing,  getting amped for season 9 coming in a couple months.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Dean fractured his leg, Sam asked Castiel to keep an eye on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Off of My Cloud

As luck would have it, it was a rather dark and rather stormy night; the rain was nearly horizontal. Dean sat in his easy chair next to the window and cycled through the extremely limited channels, wishing yet again for the laptop which Sam had taken when he had run out that morning mumbling about rumors of a chupacabra down in New Mexico. He had left Dean in a run down rent per month shack in the hill country, with, Dean had come realize, no food. The only reason Dean needed leaving was an unfortunate run in with a skin walker which had led to a fractured tibia. 

Dean pulled at the loose threads on the chair and sighed. His stomach grumbled. He reached for his duffel and the dwindling supplies of granola bars and came up short. He cursed. And reached a little bit farther. The sheep dog sitting on the other side of the room watched him curiously. “I’m eating you if there’s nothing left.” Dean braced himself against the window sill with one hand and groped with the other. The sheepdog chose that moment to let loose a loud bark. 

Dean jolted in surprise, losing his tension on the window and toppled forward. He cursed his leg and the pain coursing from it and cursed the damn slippery skin walker whose fault this whole mess was. He sat up and looked out the window. Outside was a face. Dean let out a “Son of a—“ before realizing that the pale face with dark plastered wet hair was Castiel. 

“Cas?”

Castiel blinked. A drop of water ran down his face from where it had been collecting on his eyelashes.

“Cas, man, get inside.”

Castiel shrugged and gestured at the small Enochian sigils Sam had drawn into the wooden frame. Dean licked his thumb then wiped away a part of it. He looked up to find an empty window. He frowned and looked around the room. The sheepdog was balefully looking up at the wet angel in the trench coat who was currently dripping onto its shaggy coat. “Dude do you need a towel?”

Castiel looked down and then back up. He was dry. “Okay. Any reason you were standing out there in the rain?”

The angel finally spoke. “I have come to keep you company.”

Dean let out an intelligent, “Uh.”

“Do you require anything Dean?”

Dean stared at the angel, not sure what this new behavior could possibly mean. Not one to look a racehorse in the mouth, Dean finally replied, “You could get me a beer.” Cas deliberately walked to the kitchen. Dean took his chance to ungracefully dump himself back in the chair.

Castiel returned with a bottle. He handed it to Dean and then stood a foot away. 

Dean blinked down at the closed cap. “Dude, could you open it?” Castiel reached down and removed the cap. Dean pursed his lips. “Personal space, Cas.” Castiel took a step away. Dean took a drink. “So what brings you to the sticks?” Castiel tilted his head in that way that made him think that perhaps, just maybe, angels retained more bird like qualities than just their wings. “Here, Cas, what brings you here? Don’t you have I don’t know, souls to save, assholes to smite?”

“I have been asked here to ‘keep an eye’ on you.”

“Seriously?”

“I am serious Dean.” 

Dean sighed and sat back in his chair. “Well in that case why don’t you go grab some movies. Star Wars, the good ones.” He nodded, and then added, “And pie, Cas, get me some pie.” Dean wasn’t sure if Castiel BAMFed out before or after his last comment, but he desperately hoped it was after.

 

~~  ~~  ~~

Castiel had in fact been smiting assholes, but then he had gotten a prayer on what Dean called Angel Radio from none other than Sam Winchester. _“Cas, if you’re listening, could you keep an eye on Dean? He’s kinda a cripple right now and I don’t want him to burn down the house. Or pull off little Dean. Eugh. And I forgot to give him food.”_ Castiel had mojo’d the last of the demons and flown to Dean.


End file.
